


starling or murmuration

by sharkfish



Category: Bird Box (2018), Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Bird Box Au, Blind Castiel (Supernatural), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 16:10:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17186192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkfish/pseuds/sharkfish
Summary: “Kindness isn’t a debt you repay. Who raised you?”“I’ve found the rules are different in the apocalypse.”





	starling or murmuration

**Author's Note:**

> there are no bird box spoilers that you wouldn't see in the trailer. :)

_ I didn’t raise a goddamn coward! Open your eyes and face it like a man!  _

The funny thing is, Dean’s been listening to the echoes of his father’s voice in his head his whole life, even before everything ended. He’s heard it all before.

_ Can you find us some food, Dean? _

Stupid. Sam died in the early days and hadn’t been the little boy whispering to Dean for decades. 

_ Honey, I’m right here. Honey, look at me. _

Even dumber, because Dean doesn’t remember what his mother looks like at all. 

The funny thing is that Dean’s so used to failing people, he’s never tempted to take off the blindfold. 

 

Dean’s always been better at surviving than living, so he’s done ok since the world drifted into blind fumbling. He’s good at trapping and he likes the hot splash of blood on his arms when he cleans a rabbit. 

Dean knows the sounds of his land intimately. The birds at the edge of the clearing around his house are too quiet, which is perhaps even worse than too loud. At least with  _ too loud _ he knows what’s coming. 

Dean tilts his head to listen. Quiet feet accompanied by rhythmic tapping.

“I know you’re there,” Dean says, even and low. He tightens his hand on the hilt of his knife, and then forces himself to relax again.

“Hello,” a man replies, just as quiet, the sound of his feet and the thumps stopping. He’s not where Dean expected, but he tries not to show it as he turns. Most likely this guy’s just as blind as he is. “I haven’t ran into anyone in a long time.” 

“Me either.” 

“I’m just passing through. I’d prefer to do it peacefully.” 

“I’m not so sure about that, friend,” Dean says. 

“Oh?” 

Dean’s not sure what to think about his tone. More curious than combative. 

The birds scream and scatter. 

“Inside,” Dean says, and turns back towards his house. 

Somewhere, Johnny W. is laughing about how weak Dean is. 

 

“I should warn you,” the guy says as Dean runs his hand around the window, making sure the curtains are where they belong. “I’m blind. My eyes aren’t covered.” 

Dean rips off his blindfold. The guy’s face is bare, and the sight of the long, thin cane seems both ridiculous and obvious. Dean spent months stumbling around bloodying his nose on trees. 

His eyes are bright and clear, gazing vaguely over Dean’s shoulder. “Holy shit,” Dean says. 

“I’m Cas.” 

Dean shakes the offered hand. “Dean.” 

“Are you going to allow me to sit? I have the supplies to repay your kindness.” 

Dean heads to the living room, trusting that Cas will follow his footsteps. “Dude,” Dean says. “Kindness isn’t a debt you repay. Who raised you?” 

“I’ve found the rules are different in the apocalypse.” 

“Here we are,” Dean says. “The couch is in front of you, maybe three steps, and one step to the left.” 

Cas finds it without problem and shrugs out of his backpack before sitting heavily, the way you do after a long day afraid and on your feet. Dean sits on the other end of the couch, watching Cas drink deeply from his water bottle.

“I have cans,” Cas says, showing his open backpack to Dean. “I’m not sure what is what, but you’re welcome to share.” 

“You don’t know what you’re eating? What if it’s peppers? Or  _ beets?”  _

“I don’t mind beets. I smell it and hope I get lucky.” 

“I’ve got good news and bad news,” Dean says, sorting through the cans. “Some green beans and soups is the good news. Pumpkin and water chestnuts, less good news.” 

“As my host, choose yours first.” 

“I’m sorry, it’s a dick move but I’m taking this beef stew.” 

“I’ll take the pumpkin. Good source of potassium.” 

They both have multi-tools in their pocket to open the cans. Dean retrieves spoons from the kitchen, and they eat in relative silence. 

After drinking the last of the broth from the can, Dean says, “You gonna tell me where you been, where you’re headed?” 

“Nowhere in particular and nowhere in particular. I was with a group a few days northwest. One of them survived, and here I am.” He doesn’t have to say:  _ I’m the only one left.  _

“Christ,” Dean says. “I’m sorry.” 

“It is what it is,” Cas says with a grim smile. “How about you?” 

This is what people do now. List the things they’ve lost. “I was with some people, but survivors showed up and we got separated. Been alone for awhile now.” 

“Are you going to send me back out?” 

Dean settles back against the couch. He doesn’t feel bad staring — Cas doesn’t know, and he’s certainly the most interesting thing Dean has looked at in months. “Not yet. I’ll reconsider later.” 

Cas starts to laugh, then stops abruptly, like he’s surprised by the sound of it. “Do they know you’re here?” 

“They come and go.” 

“They actually don’t bother me much,” Cas says. “They know, somehow.” 

“Is there a tiny part of you that’s laughing about seeing people tripping and breaking their noses?” 

“Did you break your nose?” There’s a funny half-tilt to his mouth, almost a smile. 

“Fuck off,” Dean says, laughing. “Yeah, I’m more danger to myself blindfolded than those things are.” 

“You seemed to be doing ok earlier.” 

“I’ve been here awhile.”

Cas nods. Takes a swig of his water. “We should have sex.” 

Dean chokes on nothing. “What?!” 

“Sex. No one is straight at the end of the world.” 

Dean laughs and laughs. “I wasn’t before the end of the world either.” 

“Excellent. I’m told I’m not hideous and it doesn’t matter to me what you look like.” Cas keeps making that odd, crooked little smile. “What do you think?” 

“Uh — yeah. Yeah, we could do that.” 

Dean stares at him, and neither of them move. “Dean,” Cas says, patiently. “Do you plan to take me to a bed?” 

“You don’t want to ravish me right here?” 

“I’m classy. I made you dinner, and I’d like to make love to you in a bed.” 

“‘Made’ is a strong word.” 

“I  _ provided  _ food.” 

“Fine,” Dean says, standing. “Is it rude to like — lead you?” 

“I’ll allow it,” Cas says, offering up his elbow. 

It’s not Dean’s first roll in the hay at the end of the world, but despite the sarcasm of _make love_ coming out of his mouth, Cas is almost tender in bed. Kisses slow and sweet. Touches gently. 

After they lay on their backs, hands still linked. Dean thinks he should pull away, but he doesn’t — it’s nice, a non-sexual touch. 

“So, that was unexpected,” Dean says. 

Cas flinches. “Yes, well. You seemed to enjoy it.” 

“Yeah, it was great. I’d do it again.” 

Cas turns towards him and lets go of his hand to fling an arm over Dean’s chest instead. “I knew I could seduce you into letting me stay the night.” 

 

Dean loved a man once, but he’s dead now. 

_ It’s almost as pretty as you. Look, Dean. I’m waiting.  _

Dean loved a woman once, and she’s probably still alive with someone better, but that doesn’t stop him from hearing her whispers. 

_ I’ve been worried about you! Let me see your eyes. Let me make sure they didn’t get you.  _

Walking down to the pond — alone, Cas back in the house making toast and eggs — he hears Cas’s voice, too. 

_ We could be together if you just saw them, too.  _

That one distracts Dean the most, and he stumbles and nearly falls into the lake like an idiot. He wonders if the things can tell which ones get to him, if that’s why Cas keeps talking to him all the way back up the hill to the house. The fucking chickens are going nuts. 

 

Cas stays. The things definitely know, because it’s not long before Cas’s voice is the only one that talks when Dean’s alone. 

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr: reallyelegantsharkfish](http://reallyelegantsharkfish.tumblr.com)
> 
> [pillowfort: sharkfish](https://www.pillowfort.io/sharkfish)
> 
> gmail: reallyelegantsharkfish 
> 
> i'm pretty bad at replying to comments, but it's a mental/emotional energy thing, not a lack of love! <3


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